American students protest outside the French embassy in Washington, DC. Photograph: Mike Krempasky/RedState.org

Last week's column mentioned George Bush's "Anglosphere-heavy coalition". I think it's worth taking a moment to note the importance of the Anglosphere in today's world, and the deeper divisions it reflects.

"This term, which can be defined briefly as the set of English-speaking, Common Law nations, implies far more than merely the sum of all persons who employ English as a first or second language. To be part of the Anglosphere requires adherence to the fundamental customs and values that form the core of English-speaking cultures. These include individualism, rule of law, honouring contracts and covenants, and the elevation of freedom to the first rank of political and cultural values.

"Nations comprising the Anglosphere share a common historical narrative in which the Magna Carta, the English and American Bills of Rights, and such Common Law principles as trial by jury, presumption of innocence, "a man's home is his castle", and "a man's word is his bond" are taken for granted. Thus persons or communities who happen to communicate or do business in English are not necessarily part of the Anglosphere, unless their cultural values have also been shaped by those values of the historical English-speaking civilisation."

I must confess that this construction struck me as odd at first. It's a bit too reminiscent of U.S. Supreme Court Justice Felix Frankfurter's theory that freedom was fundamentally a characteristic of the "English-speaking peoples", and faced far more uncertain prospects elsewhere. On the other hand, Jacques Chirac certainly seems to think there's something there, with his frequent outbursts against "a prevailing Anglo-Saxon culture which eclipses the others".

At any rate, it has been America's experience - and you can bet that plenty of Americans have noticed it - that when the chips are down it's usually other members of the Anglosphere, and particularly Britain and Australia, who can be counted on, and who are worth standing beside in turn. (Canada has been a bit dodgy in recent decades, ever since the Pierre Trudeau era and the Quebecois ascendancy). This is, of course, the reason why Tony Blair and John Howard wield such influence, while Chirac can barely get his calls returned. As Mark Steyn observes:

"The result is that, even though he's hardly ever in the souvenir photo line-up, Howard's a more consequential figure in world affairs these days than Chirac. Indeed, he's a transformative figure. I know this, because my nation has been on the other end of the transformation. I'm Canadian and, for those who remember when the Royal Canadian Navy was once the third largest surface fleet in the world, it's sobering to hear Australia spoken of as the third pillar of the Anglosphere.

"Under Howard, Australia is a player while Canada is a global irrelevance."

France's problems go deeper, of course. Even within the European Union, it is described by some observers as "increasingly isolated" in opposition to the more dynamic nations of the East. But the extent to which French behaviour has forfeited American goodwill over the past few years is poorly appreciated among French leaders, I'm afraid. America would go to the mat to support Britain and Australia. But - though it has done so before, twice - I'm no longer sure that it would similarly exert itself on behalf of France. As Andrew Sullivan wrote in the Times last year: "I've lived in the United States for almost 20 years and have rarely heard anything but condescension towards successive French governments. But now that condescension has turned to contempt."

That seems about right to me. (There's even a new book, called Our Oldest Enemy, that takes a rather unflattering view of France's role.) This is a bit of a problem for John Kerry, whose greater-than-average admiration for French policies has received some attention. And it's also a reason why Kerry, even if elected, will find it hard to take a more France-friendly approach. There just isn't political support.

But though tensions between the United States and France are an issue, similar tensions exist within the United States, and around the world beyond France. As Bennett has observed:

"[I]t is worth considering the possibility that the root source of anti-Americanism in the world lies in the deep-rooted anti-modern tradition of Continental Europe.

"Just as the Ba'athist movement lately of Iraq and still in power in Syria is a localised variant of European fascism, the broader anti-Americanism currently fashionable on all continents comes ultimately from what some have called the industrial counter-revolution. This is a comprehensive category for the various reactions in Europe against the programme of the industrial and democratic revolutions, or liberalism in the classical sense - individualism, free markets, and technological and social progress."

Osama bin Laden's rather backward-looking form of Islam constitutes an extreme reaction against modernity, of course. But the dirigiste statism of the traditional French approach, which has produced a political situation in which even modest adjustments to civil servants' pensions can produce widespread social unrest, is another, milder version.

Nor is this purely a matter of international relations. Within the United States - and, indeed, within all countries, even the most capitalist - the industrial revolution, and capitalism, pose a threat to those who prefer hierarchy and status to dynamism and meritocracy. (Indeed, Virginia Postrel has looked at this division in her book, The Future And Its Enemies, and concluded that the big division of the twenty-first century is between "dynamists" and "stasists".)

As both Bennett and Postrel note, the Anglosphere has been far more open to progress and change than, say, the Francosphere, such as it is. But within the Anglosphere one finds people - often academics, or government employees, or others who operate in environments where competition is less fierce, and status hierarchies more important - who are threatened by dynamism. In this regard, concerns about American power are as much a symptom of anxiety as a matter of substance. This may explain why so many such people around the world, and even within America, favour John Kerry, widely regarded as the French-leaning candidate in the American election. On the other hand, the division exists in the other direction, even on the Continent, too. Within France are activists like Sabine Herold, who are challenging the ossified structures of French society and standing up against social rigidities. (Herold, in a very un-French way, is an unabashed admirer of hard work.) And, of course, within Europe as a whole the countries of "New Europe", like Poland, are far more anxious for progress and change than the inward-looking countries of Old Europe, like France and Germany.

The good news is that the American elections will be over soon. The bad news is that the tensions they represent are not limited to America, and will continue long after George Bush, or John Kerry, is sworn in in January.

· Glenn Reynolds, a law professor at the University of Tennessee, runs the instapundit.com US political blog.